Over the weekend anti war rallies were held in Washington DC, London and other mainly US major centres amidst renewed calls from the US Public for the US Administration to withdraw their forces from Iraq.

I’m not sure how one should feel about the anti war movement in the US. I’m all for an end to war an all that stuff and for that I give them my full support.

Yet there’s something that doesn’t quite wash, and no I am not referring to any hippy element that may have been present. It’s more the naïve notion that war can simply be banned or stopped through some sort of collective action. Noble sentiment I admit but it’s a completely impractical notion and doesn’t offer any real alternative to the current US Administrations policy for Iraq, Afghanistan and other nations currently under US scrutiny and/or support. Or I might add any other power that exerts their influence over others, for whatever reason.

One can’t simply say things aren’t going to plan in Iraq either, for alas I fear that t…

Most sober people won’t have had the pleasure of ever having wrestled naked on a plateau of mud I imagine. I wish I could say the same, yet I have on occasion had one two many, drinks that is. Thus wrestling on a plateau comes naturally. Consider it part of a mans right of passage into the world. If I ever complete my man training I will inform you all. Until then I still am a learner drinker and long may that stand, or not as the case maybe and my mud wrestling days are behind me, I think.

Mud wrestling has never been a past-time to which I could consider myself drawn, or even remotely interested in, yet somehow via my good friend Alan, we’ll call him Alan – for that is his name, the concept of doing battle on plateau’s of mud was mooted. We were of course sober at the time and discussing the relative merits of the free jazz movement over that of the Balearic beat, one night years back after a long day at the coalface.

I would hazard a guess at the fact I suffer sometimes from insomnia. It’s a relatively recent part of my live, slowly invading my sleepy time over the past four or five years. Initially it was stress related I imagine, as I sometimes stress about stuff, sometimes I have reason to. Who doesn't?

If I was younger trying to make my mark on the world I’d wear that fact like a badge of pride, for it occurs to me that many an aspiring young, (usually) professional, feels that stress is an important indicator of their place in the world. I won’t complain about that, as the more the merrier my doctor says. Or would if I went to doctors - which I try very hard not to do. Sure if my arm was about to fall off they’d be high on my priority list but for some strange and fabulous reason I am relatively healthy and thus haven’t seen the need for at least ten years. Long may that personal record remain intact.

Now insomnia isn’t all bad. In fact if its not stress induced and one has the temperament …

Election day 2005, feeling a little shady due to excess last night at the Social Club. Which I must say was jolly good fun. Good people, good tunes and a few drinks, nice.

The perfect start to my day to make a difference - crikey you wouldn't wanna be feeling too chipper prior to casting your vote now would you. This is after all very serious stuff.

Best state of mind is to be slightly grumpy (ready for queues), tired (yawning in line is a good look), shabby (yes these are the clothes I slept in), hungry (I thought vodka the night before constituted a healthy food regime), smelly (yeah so I smoke, tax me), excited (well why not), appear slightly confused by walking randomly into things (mental note to self, must clean specs), determined (having done my research and polled myself on many occasions I know whom I want to vote for) and most importantly have a few gold coins on hand for the sausage sizzle that one expects to find outside the polling booth that’s core task is raising mon…

Well, if you're reading this it must mean you're up for a good old fashioned House party... or someone who knows you is and would love your company on the dance floor. It's been a while since Luvdup and SoulTrust put on a party but we reckoned it was time to dust off the dancing shoes.

Friday, 16 September at Plume Bar (Galatos Basement) will be a rare chance to get down with a delightful crowd of people who will smile, chat, laugh and boogie 'til their feet hurt. Meet your friends, meet our friends, meet their friends…it's a Social Club!

The fun starts at 10.00pm and the lights come up at 6.00am. Providing the sounds will be:

Been a busy week, awaiting the election, watching news, ignoring opinion polls, trying to forget about older gents testicles and watching the final countdown to polling day

There really are better things to be doing, perhaps I shall take up knitting or pottery or finish off that tin foil hat... in the meantime I shall await election day with my easy voter card thing clutched in my sweaty palm

Now the real dilemma is am I sad enough to watch the damn thing on Saturday night, TVNZ are promising real flash graphics..... I bet TV3 will have some too, why I should get excited about this I really don't know.... they could provide intelligent commentary but I guess a computer generated bit of 'wow' is more important for the sports fans. I will no doubt do the wise thing and hide in the bottom of a bottle, fags in hand.

This entire post is taken from Baghdad Burning a Girl Blog from Iraq... let's talk war, politics and occupation. A different perspective on past events.

“R.- come in here! You have to see this!” It was September 11, 2001 and I was in the kitchen rinsing some dishes from lunch. I paused at the urgency in my brothers voice but continued rinsing, thinking there was some vaguely important news item on Iraq’s state controlled channel.

“I’m coming- a moment.” I called back. The phone began to ring and I stopped to answer it on my way out of the kitchen.

The line went dead and I put down the phone, my heart beating wildly. I made my way to the living room, curious and nervous, wondering what it could be. Had someone died? Were they going to bomb us again? That was always a possibility. It never surprised anyone when the US decided on an air strike. I wond…

I am happy this morning because I went to bed really early so awoke to catch the sun rise and usher in my dayI am happy this morning because it’s going to be a lovely sunny dayI am happy this morning because I have the house to myself and lots of music I want to listen toI am happy this morning because I think I’ve finally managed to unblock a drain a victory for impractical meI am happy this morning because A track called Sweetness has a cracking remix from the Soultrust gang and it’s a damn fine thingI am happy this morning because Of Tony Senghore’s “Shabooya” which so does it for meI am happy this morning because I have little I have to do todayI am happy this morning because Bevan Keys is on the radio and he always makes me smileI am happy this morning because I just found a website I’d been looking forI am happy this morning because My sister Belinda sent me a parcel so I’d have some decent mailI am happy this morning because I’m quite enjoying this Blog thing, weird as that may…

I’ve never thought much of Bob Geldof and his chum Bono, never liked their music, actually I’ll go as far as saying I loathe their music, mildly talented tossers is a polite way to put it.

Sure U2 were the soundtrack of my first encounters with both alcohol and the opposite sex, not by my choice I can say, well up for the booze and girl action but the soundtrack, christ it’s a wonder I ever got a snog, let alone anything else. My friends at the time all thought U2’s Boy was the bees’ knees, back then, and play it they did. I’m actually being a bit uncharitable here, cause them same friends introduced me to The Verlaines and The Clean and for that I am eternally grateful.

My later experiences a few years later were more traumatising. When I moved to Mt Maunganui and had to endure Talking Head’s Stop Making Sense at every bloody party I went to, usually three or four times a night, couple that pup with Midnight Oil and you may start to see why I can be so very angry.

Before I share that little titbit, first some background information is needed I feel. In 1985 I left home to attend University in Hamilton, an exciting time for anyone as I’m sure most who’ve had the pleasure and benefit will attest to.

Well like all good idiots I had seen many a bad teen flick and thus knew one was meant to join clubs, I so should not try and emulate American teen flicks! Well one day I came across a poster, seeking radio announcers for the Student Radio Station. That sounds like a bit of me I thought, so ripped the poster from the wall (I’ve still got it too, somewhere amongst my clutter) and went to find the station and apply for a role. After some weeks of hassling the station manager I was finally given a slot. I should point out at this point Student Radio in New Zealand was a pale shadow of what it has become. Well the station – Radio Contact 1440 1XC, was soon my primary musical outlet and radio hom…

I'm angry because I can't do anything practical to help those in New OrleansI'm angry because I don't exercise enoughI'm angry because I can't waive a magic wand and sort out the problems in Iraq, Israel, Afghanistan, North Korea, Haiti and well everywhere and anywhereI'm angry because I haven't shaved for a week and I am going greyI'm angry because I have been limping for almost two weeks due to a self inflicted injury (stubbed toes) which are taking for ever to get better and I feel pathetic because of thisI'm angry because I am so over the self centeredness of my fellow country folks and this bullshit election I am living throughI'm angry because My share portfolio is devoid of any actual sharesI'm angry because I'm listening to Murray Cammack on the radio play a bunch of funk and soul from New Orleans and I wish I had half the knowledge this man doesI'm angry because Its Tuesday and that’s as good a day as any to be angryI…

I have this bad habit that I'm currently trying to break - watching TV. I've spent too many hours this past winter in front of the idiot box. So much so that some mornings I find my brain cowering in a corner of the room begging for a new home..... perhaps someone would care to adopt said brain, I know after all ignorance is bliss...

Well this past week I decided it was time to break the routine or habit. First step was to push the red button on the remote - it wasn't easy, sweaty brow and the thought I might actually miss Paul Henry, reason enough to push the red button you may suggest. I'm doing quite well, or at least I was till a little lady called Katrina entered my life and that of many millions of peoples.

My view of Katrina is that of a privileged bystander, which suits me fine and I hope I never have to met her face to face. Well anyway, Katrina as you hopefully realise is the Hurricane that has devastated New Orleans and an area the size of New Zealand in the …